Run Swiftly Until Dawn
by VanityFlair
Summary: A collection of one-shots and drabbles from the series 'Run Swiftly Through the Night'. Rating subject to change.
1. Number 1 - Drabble

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**Synopsis: _The conversation between Stiles and Alma during the vacation in Italy._**

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The siren's island was magnificent, a tiny little paradise tucked away from the human world. The vacationing teens were lounging in the oasis pool, the sirens stretching their tails and soaking their scales in the cool water. A scrim was pulled over the water so any photographers on a plane passing over couldn't see them.

Stiles walked over and sat next to Alma, her iridescent neon blue tail rippling gently in the water.

"So, I hear you and Neris lived together when you were younger," he began as he settled into his spot, sticking his feet in the water.

"Yeah, mom and I have an apartment in New York," she nodded. "It took Aunt Riga a while to get back on her feet and Neris…well, you probably know how Neris felt."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed.

He looked at Alma's tail, and then over to Neris – who was sitting across the pool in between Scott and Isaac – with her pink tail, and then to Lei and Maree, who had differing shades of purple scales on their tails.

"Why don't you all have the same colored tails?" He asked.

"Neris didn't tell you?" Alma raised an eyebrow.

"Well, up until now I hadn't seen her tail."

"Huh," Alma mused as she propped herself up on her elbows. "Well, the short answer is: we don't know."

"Okay," Stiles chuckled. "And the long answer?"

Alma grinned, flicking her tail lightly in the water. "The long answer is: we think it has something to do with our personalities. You know, like color psychology and stuff like that. Mine's blue because I'm super chill and easy to talk to. Lei and Maree are purple because they're the creative and super smart ones – and they're pretty introspective too."

"And, what, Neris' tail is pink because she's super girly?" Stiles chuckled.

Alma laughed, "If she heard you say that, she'd probably punch you in the arm." Stiles laughed beside her and nodded. "No, we think Neris' tail is pink because she's just a really compassionate person. I mean, there are very few people she doesn't like."

"Yeah, but I can probably name all of them on one hand." He added.

"Well, those people were probably attempting to hurt one of her friends, right?"

Stiles thought for a moment. "Right," he conceded.

"Neris is a fighter," Alma remarked. "She told me how you and Scott have been there for her."

"And her for us." Stiles added. "She's saved my ass more than a few times. Scott too."

"And it's probably going to happen again."

Stiles gave a short laugh and leaned back on his elbows, "Probably."


	2. Number 2 - One Shot

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**Synopsis: _Extended scene when __Neris appears bloodied and weeping in the vet clinic, surprising Dr. Deaton.__  
_**

* * *

He had known her since she was a small child. He had known her mother even longer. Riga was a strong woman, best friend to a remarkable Alpha, who had suffered many losses. Her daughter had lost loved ones as well.

Alan Deaton remembered when James Sangster died. How Riga had wept and Neris cried, unable to understand the entirety of the situation, only knowing her father was dead.

He remembered when she appeared at his clinic many years later, fourteen and unbearably shy, looking for a job. How she slowly came out of her shell as she reunited with Scott and Stiles. How she shouldered the responsibilities of her species when Scott was turned.

He saw her become powerful – lethal even, though she would never become so unless it was a last resort. Scott's pack – a motley crew of teenagers – powered through situations other teenagers couldn't imagine.

Alan Deaton saw Neris and Scott as the children he never had. Both fatherless, both supernatural and struggling to come to terms with what they were and what their purpose was. He had tended to Scott's wounds on more than one occasion, never thinking that the cautious and clever Neris would need his medical assistance.

When she appeared in his office, strapped to a chair with duct tape, bleeding and blindfolded and covered in powdered henbane, all thoughts fled from him.

"Neris?!" He exclaimed, absolute horror and revulsion sweeping over him as he looked at her condition.

"Dr. Deaton," Neris whimpered.

Deaton rushed to her, fumbling with the knotted fabric that covered her eyes.

"They used henbane. They hurt me and put henbane powder on me to stop the healing." She told him, her voice weak and trembling. "I don't know how much is in my system, but we need to get it out."

"Who are 'they'?" He asked as he pulled the fabric off, meeting Neris' terrified eyes, the skin puffy and red from crying.

"I don't know," she sobbed, shaking her head as she shook – from pain or terror, he didn't know. "I never saw their faces."

Dr. Deaton took out a scalpel, slicing through her duct tape bonds as swiftly as he could. "Whoever they were, they knew what you are. I'm going to call Scott."

"No," Neris contradicted quickly, anxiously. "No, not Scott. Call Stiles."

"Stiles?" Deaton repeated, helping Neris onto the examination table.

"Stiles," Neris confirmed.

As he began cleaning the blood and powder off her skin, Deaton called Stiles.

"Hello?" Stiles answered questioningly, not recognizing the number.

"Stiles, it's Dr. Deaton," he informed him. "I need you to come to the clinic right away. It's Neris."

There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the call, "What's wrong; is she okay?"

"No, she isn't." Dr. Deaton told him.

The call ended abruptly; Deaton could only assume Stiles was on his way.

"How did this happen?" He asked.

"Jogging," she replied sullenly. "Someone bashed me on the head, kidnapped me. Cut me, burned me, threw henbane powder on me. They knew what they were doing. They knew _exactly _what they were doing."

After he finished cleaning her wounds, pausing only momentarily when he saw an unusual one on the back of her neck, he went over to the cabinet only he had access to, and pulled out the necessary ingredients to create an antidote. Charred cow bones, lemon juice, datura and finely ground amber that had a honey golden hue were all placed on the countertop.

"Were you stocking up?" Neris attempted to joke, the last word caught in a hiccup as she tried to steady her breath.

"It never hurts to be prepared."

"But isn't Datura poisonous too?"

"Sirens don't react to henbane the way humans or animals do, much like werewolves and wolfsbane," Deaton remarked as he ground the bones in the mortar. "Werewolves need more wolfsbane to purge it from their system, but to add more henbane to a siren would kill her. Datura is the only thing that can be used as an antidote."

"But what about the other stuff?"

"To clean the wound, stop it from scarring."

"Sirens don't scar," Neris replied, her eyebrows knitting as she sniffed lightly.

"With henbane, you would."

Neris made a soft 'hmph' as he began combining the other ingredients together.

"I just don't understand. Why would someone do this?" She asked, her voice catching. "I mean, who could…and I don't even know how long I was there. They said they had to put me to sleep and that that I had woken up three times, and it just doesn't make sense."

"There are people out there who let their anger consume them," Dr. Deaton told her as he began spreading the mixture gently on her wounds. "There are some people who believe the lives of others are of less value than their own. You've met people like this and I don't doubt you'll meet them again. But the most important thing is that you trust yourself and your friends, that you trust you'll be able to overcome the obstacles in front of you and keep fighting even if the bad things don't stop coming."

"But how do I overcome something like this?" She sobbed softly. "Someone actively sought out to hurt me and did so. They wanted me to break the Alpha bond – they knew what it was and what it meant and wanted it gone. And they didn't care how they were going to get it done. How – how am I supposed to get past that?"

"I'm not going to lie to you," he confessed as he finished applying the poultices. "It's going to be hard. It may be one of the hardest things you'll have to do, but you have Scott and Stiles. You have two friends who would do anything for you just as you would do anything for them. They're going to help you get through this, but first you have to let them."

The front door of the clinic screeched on its hinges as Stiles barreled into the clinic. He was flushed, breathing heavily from anxiety and the rush to the clinic, and when his sights came to rest on Neris his expression turned to horror and worry. Neris' eyes were downcast, her cheeks still stained from the freshly shed tears and her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Neris, what happened?" Stiles asked as he began walking towards her.

Dr. Deaton pulled him aside, away from the examination room to give Neris some time to recollect herself. Stiles would have a lot of questions – questions which Deaton himself couldn't answer, though he knew what the answers would be. She'd have to tell herself, but Deaton would tell Stiles what he could. He'd just have to bend the truth a little to do so.

"She's still in a bit of a shock; she stopped answering my questions a while ago, but from what I gathered she was kidnapped while jogging," Dr. Deaton paused. "And tortured."

"Tortured?!" Stiles exclaimed, looking over at his friend. "By who?"

"She can't remember; she says she never saw their faces." Deaton explained. "But when I was putting the herb mixture on her wounds to draw the henbane out, there was a particular one on the back of her neck."

"What, like the kanima did?"

"No, they were claw marks, as if something – or rather, someone – had dug their claws into her neck."

"You mean a werewolf?" Stiles asked, the color beginning to drain out of his face. Dr. Deaton nodded grimly. "How did she get out?"

"I didn't know at first; she just appeared out of nowhere, still strapped to the chair they put her in with a blindfold on." Dr. Deaton began. "Her ring. It's a tool for living sirens to evade extreme situations with the aid over their deceased ancestors. She literally went through hell to get here. It could've killed her."

Stiles sighed heavily. "What did Scott say?"

"She wouldn't let me call him," Dr. Deaton confessed.

"What?" Stiles asked, pulling out his cell phone. "He has to know."

"No Scott," Neris' weak voice was heard.

Stiles paused, phone still in hand, until reluctantly putting it back in his pocket and walking over to his friend. "Neris, you were kidnapped and tortured," Stiles began as gently as he could. "Scott needs to know."

"Stiles, we can't tell him," Neris pleaded. "Please, promise me you won't tell him."

"Wha – why?"

"Because whoever these people are, they wanted me to break the Alpha bond. The only blood bond that can't be broken and they wanted it done." Neris whimpered, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "They already knew about the blood bond; they knew it was unbreakable, meaning they chose me. That means they want Scott to be weaker without me, and that they probably want to be stronger as a pack, too."

"Which is exactly why we need to tell Scott," Stiles argued.

"We promised each other a supernatural free summer!" Neris sobbed. "We owe him that! We owe ourselves that!"

"Neris!" Stiles exclaimed, grabbing hold of her trembling shoulders to steady her. "This could be what that Greek Alpha warned us about. Scott needs to know."

Neris shook her head, sniffing as the tears kept falling. "It's not what the Alpha said. Ioannina's oracle friend gave me three signs: a stampede of a single deer, the fury of a friendly canine, and the coming of crows. Whatever the Alpha threatened us about, it won't start until those three things come to pass."

Stiles pulled her into a hug, and he felt her arms wrap around him tightly. "We should still tell Scott."

"I know," Neris admitted. "But not yet. Not until the signs happen. We deserve the rest of this summer to be without anything bad happening."

Deaton could see Stiles wanted to argue, but he was grateful that Stiles let it drop. Neris was in a delicate state.

Deaton understood Stiles a little better now. He only knew the sarcastic sidekick that he had met only a few times. But the scene in front of him showed him why Neris had him call Stiles. Scott would worry and start pressing for information, and would proceed to try and locate her torturers and attempt a dialogue in his usual manner to come to some agreement and avoid any unnecessary violence. Isaac would immediately start tearing the city apart to find them and probably get himself killed or seriously hurt in the attempt to kill her torturers. He was fiercely loyal, in love with Neris, and trigger happy enough abandon her in the effort to destroy those who hurt her. What she needed was comfort, pure and simple. Stiles was human, with no ulterior motives or separate supernatural agendas he'd be distracted by. Right now, that was what she needed for that.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" He asked, rubbing her back consolingly.

She nodded, sliding off the cold metal of the examination table to follow him out to his car.

"The henbane should be out of her system by now, but I'd keep the poultice on until you get home just in case." Dr. Deaton told her, taking her arm gently as he guided her out of the clinic. "Get a warm shower, and please, get some food in your system."

Neris nodded and managed a smile. "Thanks, doc."

"Call me if anything happens," Dr. Deaton directed his statement at both teens. They nodded, and Stiles wrapped a supportive arm around his friend as they walked to his car.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but when Neris had said 'Thanks, doc', it almost sounded like 'Thanks, dad'.


	3. Number 3 - Drabble

**Please PM me if you have a one-shot/drabble request or suggestion. Don't forget to favorite, follow, or review. Or all three if you wanna flatter me!**

**This is just a short, kinda fluffy drabble. I've been watching Once Upon a Time and the new storyline/setting makes me both happy and sad, so I had to write a little bit of fluff. Hope you enjoy!**

**Synopsis: ****_Neris has a bad dream during her recovery time from being tortured. Stiles reads to her to comfort her._**

* * *

_It was dark. Something was hurting her. It felt like there were knives being driven into every inch of her. It was dark. She couldn't see what hurting her. She couldn't see who. But it hurt. She couldn't move. She couldn't get away._

Neris' eyes flew open, her breathing heavy as the last remnants of the dream clung to her. Next to her, Stiles stirred as well, his sleep disturbed by the large gasp Neris had made.

"Whuzzapp'n?" He mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"Sorry, Stiles," Neris apologized softly, patting him lightly on the side. "Just a bad dream."

Stiles sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Same as last time?"

Neris nodded, "Same one."

He reached over and rubbed her knee sympathetically, frowning from the inability to help his friend. Neris sighed and ran her hands through her hair and up over her face, covering her eyes. Stiles took this opportunity to turn the bedside lamp on. There was no use sitting in the dark if neither of them were close to falling back asleep.

"I wish there was something I could do to help you," he told her, standing up and stretching.

"I do too," she confessed.

Stiles drew in a deep breath, racking his brain for any way to help calm his friend down. This was the umpteenth nightmare she had dreamt. They had tried playing cards, Tumblr, and even feel-good comedies, but nothing had kept the dreams away for long.

And then his eyes caught something. He had been in Neris' room countless times, and up until now he had been too preoccupied with other things and hadn't really paid attention to the little ones, like the fact that sat in a small section of her bookshelf were children's books. Their spines were creased and well worn, as if they were opened and read many times over.

"What are these?" Stiles asked, walking over to them.

"The kid's books?" Neris questioned, looking over to her bookshelf. "My mom and dad read them to me when I was little. Dad was better, though. He did the voices for the characters and everything."

"Did it make you feel happy?"

"Um, I guess. Why?"

Stiles gave a small smirk and pulled a book off the shelf, hiding the title from Neris' view.

"Stiles, what are you doing?" She giggled as he plopped on the bed, causing the water mattress to ripple wildly.

"Shhh," he shushed, leaning against the headboard and opening the book. "_All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end_."

And so he read to her, affecting an accent when he voiced the different characters. Neris smiled, snuggling into the crook of his arm as he held the book on his stomach.

_"Wendy, do come with me and tell the other boys."_

_Of course she was very pleased to be asked, but she said, "Oh dear, I can't. Think of mummy! Besides, I can't fly."_

_"I'll teach you."_

_"Oh, how lovely to fly."_

_"I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go."_

_"Oo!" she exclaimed rapturously._

_"Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me saying funny things to the stars."_

_"Oo!"_

_"And, Wendy, there are mermaids."_

_"Mermaids! With tails?"_

_"Such long tails."_

_"Oh," cried Wendy, "to see a mermaid!"_

"Mermaids in this story are just as nice as the ones in real life," Neris quipped.

Stiles chuckled, "And I'm glad I'm never going to meet either of them."

Neris snorted lightly from her spot beside him as he continued reading. She felt her eyes get heavy when Peter, Wendy, John and Michael reached Neverland. She might've dozed off for a split second when Tootles shot Wendy when Tinkerbell told him to.

_"If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids singing."_

Stiles looked over to Neris, about to make a comment about the island in Italy, but found her sleeping soundly nestled in his arm. He smiled slightly as he reached over and turned the bedside lamp back off, but he kept the book beside him just in case the dream came back.

That night, however, was one of the few times it didn't.


End file.
